Chapter 6 - The Midnight ClankingBy 1:30 AM, the historic downtown warehouse was a disaster zone of standing water, emergency lighting, and panicked event coordinators. Water rained down from an exposed iron pipe near the ceiling rafters, pooling across the polished concrete floors where thousands of dollars in staging equipment sat submerged.
While her panicked coworkers ran around frantically trying to save floral arrangements, I climbed the industrial ladder straight to the rafters with my tool belt clanking against the steel frame.
Sophie stood below, holding the heavy flashlight, watching me maneuver through the dark structure.
“Jack, be careful!” she shouted over the roar of the leaking water.
“I’ve seen worse!” I called down, positioning a heavy-duty sleeve clamp over the ruptured cast-iron joint. With steady, practiced force, I torqued the bolts down, feeling the pressure yield under the steel.
The roaring torrent slowed to a trickle, then stopped entirely.
Below, the event crew burst into quiet cheers. I hooked my wrench to my belt and climbed down the ladder, soaked in rusty water, my hair plastered to my forehead.
Sophie walked over to me, holding a dry towel. She didn't hand it to me; instead, she stepped right into my space and began gently wiping the water from my face and neck. Her hands were soft against my skin, her touch deliberate and slow.
“You really are a lighthouse,” she whispered, looking up at me through dark, thick lashes.
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“Just a guy with a heavy wrench,” I replied, catching her hand in mine.
She didn't pull away. Her fingers wrapped around mine, warm and firm against the cold air of the warehouse.
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